


Party Crasher

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Sanders Sides [19]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), slight mention of drugging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22514779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Thomas is at a party. Surprising no one, Virgil hates it, but he tries to stay out of the way, to not ruin the fun. Until everything goes wrong.
Series: Sanders Sides [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594594
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124





	1. It Goes Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write some fluff between this one and the last one, but it turned into angst instead, so here you go, folks!

Thomas was at a party. It was crowded and hot. The crush of people left little room to maneuver, like playing human bumper cars. The music was loud, pounding bass in his ribcage, they had to shout to be heard. To no one’s surprise, Virgil absolutely hated it.   
He was sitting on the stairs of the mindscape living room, head deep in his hoodie, knees pulled to his chest as he focused on his breaths. That was all he could do at the moment, just try and keep breathing, try not to ruin this for anyone.  
It hadn’t been so bad, at first. Thomas had gone to this party with Joan, so at least he wasn’t alone, he had a safety buddy. He’d told people where he was going, in case anything happened. He’d taken all Virgil’s precautions beforehand.   
But then Joan had wandered off and they’d lost sight of them, and now Thomas was talking and socializing and he hadn’t said anything embarrassing or weird yet, but he could at any moment, and what if he was sharing too much information? What if he was talking to the wrong people?  
He’d already been told to lay off by Princey, when they’d found the other theater kids. Logan had nearly called him paranoid again when he tried to argue, and even Milo had left him alone on the stairs, trying to schmooze with anyone who could possibly get Thomas a role. Patton was too excited to be making new friends to care, and he had the job of wrangling Remus, trying to keep him from butting in on Thomas’s conversations. Just the thought of Remus blurting out anything right now made his shoulders hunch further, his breathing becoming just a bit more ragged.   
Come on, keep it together. They’re right, you’re being stupid, you’re overreacting, everything’s fine, Thomas is doing just fine. He argued futily with himself.   
He realized they’d drifted towards the living room. He saw someone out of the corner of his eye move quickly and flinched, making Thomas stumble and trip, catching himself on a couch before faceplanting. But oh, god, people saw and it was Virgil’s fault and now they were laughing at him and everyone would think he was clumsy and stupid-   
“Would you stop? He’s just fine.” Roman snapped, not that Virgil could blame him.   
“Sorry. I’m trying. Sorry.” Roman’s attention was already elsewhere, and he didn’t hear the hoarseness to Virgil’s voice, the tremor in it, how he shrunk back against the wall, hugging his knees tighter to his chest, pulling his hoodie tighter around his head. He was right, they were all right, he’d just keep his mouth shut, he’d just let up and let the others handle it. It was fine. They didn’t need his input anyway, they didn’t need his help, they were doing perfectly on their own, he was only holding them back, yet again. He’d just shut up, it’s what they all wanted, it would be better, they’d all have more fun without him.  
Thomas had been hanging out in the kitchen for a bit, snacking and small talking, sipping at a drink, keeping his alcohol intake to a minimum, thankfully of his own accord, because despite his private vow not to step in and ruin the night, he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle drunk Thomas without doing anything. The others were right. Thomas was having a great time without his interference, he wasn’t needed, he should have kept his mouth closed to start with.  
Thomas excused himself to go to the bathroom, setting his drink down on the counter as he left.   
They ended up in the living room again, Virgil relaxing ever so slightly as they spotted Joan across the room. The music seemed softer as well, no doubt the host was trying to avoid a noise complaint and had turned it down a bit. Slowly, he eased out of his hood, the eyeshadow lightening ever so slightly as things seemed to be slowing down. Eventually, they made their way back to the kitchen, grabbing their drink and taking a swig.   
Virgil’s blood rushed loud in his ears. How long had that drink been alone? Ten, twenty minutes? Too long, too, too long. How many times had he told Thomas never to leave his drink alone, never to let it out of his sight, all the different ways people could slip something into it, drugs, roofies, poison, he should have said something but he didn’t expect Thomas to be so stupid! And of course, of course the single moment he let his guard down, is when this happened. His fault, his fault, echoed through his head.  
He jumped to his feet, eyes wide and panicked, causing Thomas to drop his cup before he could take another drink of his beverage. No, no no, this wasn’t good, this was so far from good. He swayed on his feet, wondering vaguely when the world had tilted.  
“Virgil! That seems uncalled for.” Patton scolded lightly. Virgil tried to respond, tried to summon words, but he felt strangely dizzy, unsteady on his feet as he staggered, clutching the bannister to keep himself upright.   
“S’mthings… not right.” He gasped out, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps that tore against his throat.   
“Virgil. What is it?” Logan. Suddenly he was right before him, and Virgil flinched. It was bright, why was it so bright? He shook his head, clutching at his throat, trying to get in air, trying to breathe, this wasn’t a panic attack, this was something else.   
“T’mas. Drink.” He slurred. He felt his legs give out from under him, but they were numb, his hands were numb too, he could barely feel them, couldn’t move them. He’d never felt this before, felt so heavy, before.   
His head felt like it was swimming. He couldn’t hold onto thoughts. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, bursts of light were dancing across his vision, darkness encroaching from all sides, a coldness to it that made him shiver. He knew, knew, that blacking out now would not be good.   
“Virgil!” Roman’s voice cut through the haze, and he realized vaguely that he was on the ground. When had he fallen? Roman was trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear it. He shuddered, cold flooding through his body, sending him into spasms.   
“F’nd Joan. Get ‘m hme” His mouth felt dry, his windpipe was closing up, he couldn’t breathe. The last thing he saw was Roman’s blurry, panicked eyes, then the black drowned him.  
He plunged, down and down and down, until he didn’t know if he was still falling or floating still in space or had landed on the ground. He tried to speak, but no sound came out of his throat, he tried to move, but he couldn’t see even his hand in front of his face, barely knew if he was even real or not anymore.   
Distant echoes seemed to reach him through the cavernous space, clicking noises and sounds that could maybe be inhales of breath making him flinch, coming from all directions. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t make any difference, he clapped his hands over his ears, but it didn’t block out any sound, he curled into a ball, feeling cold seep into him, into his bones, as the noises grew louder, closer, more insistent. Cold wind caressed his neck, sending goosebumps down his arms, and he curled tighter, trying to block it all out, trying to remember where he’d been, trying to pull himself up against the waves of naseau that crested over him. Failed, failed, he’d failed, it was over, it was ruined.  
“well, look what we have here.” A voice, a cold, hard voice, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care, knew he should be afraid but he couldn’t feel, anymore. “What is the favorite little light side doing in my corner of the mind?” it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, he was nothing.


	2. Getting Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others try to help Virgil, and Logan has an emotional break through.

Logan was the first to realize something was wrong. Perhaps as Logic, he felt Thomas’s own grasp on it slipping, or perhaps it was the abject terror plain on Virgil’s face. While his anxiety had been heightened this evening, nothing warranted that response, and he had seemed to be relaxing. Nothing should have upset him this much, especially a simple drink. He was across the room in two steps. 

“Virgil. What is it?” He noticed how Virgil flinched back, as if he hadn’t seen him approaching. His eyes were dilated as well, almost completely black, and he was clinging onto the bannister for dear life.

“T’mas. Drink.” The side managed to slur, clutching at his throat, and Logan’s eyes widened with realization. Virgil had been trying to hold back so he wouldn’t disturb Thomas’s night, and someone had slipped something in his drink.   
He was unprepared as Virgil swayed, then fell. Luckily Roman was there, catching Virgil before he hit the ground, lowering them both gently to the carpeted floor. 

“Can you hear me? I need you to listen to my voice. I need you to stay awake. Virgil!” The side was shaking like a leaf, and suddenly his eyes locked on Roman’s. He felt a wave of relief, maybe it was wearing off, maybe he’d be fine, maybe-

“F’nd Joan. Get ‘m home.” He mumbled, looking past Roman, to Milo, who was shocked into motionlessness, but Virgil’s words spurred him to action. Virgil was fight or flight, but he was self preservation. He had a job to do.

“Patton. We need to find Joan, now, before this affects Thomas as well. We have maybe a few seconds before it starts hitting him. You find them, I’ll keep him going as long as I can.” Milo said calmly, making Patton focus on him, on his words. Patton let out a long, steadying breath. If Thomas was ok, Virgil would be too. He clung to that hope like a life line as he picked out Joan across the room. 

Sure enough, by the time they reached Joan, Thomas’s own steps were unsteady, his own vision blurry, though he wasn’t experiencing any other symptoms. Milo was pale, face drawn, as he tried to keep the adrenaline up, keep whatever this was from affecting Thomas enough to incapacitate him. 

“Thomas, are you ok?” Joan asked, as soon as they laid eyes on their friend. He had a dazed expression on his face, his eyes unfoccused, and he swayed slightly on his feet.

“I dunno. S’mothing doesn’t feel right.” Was his slurred response, and Joan kicked into parent mode overdrive. They grabbed Thomas by the arm, carefully guiding him past people, out the door, into the fresh night air. By now he could barely stand, barely keep his eyes open, slumped against Joan, who was frantically dialing on their phone.  
Satisfied that Thomas was taken care of, Milo let up, not allowing his own cresting exhaustion to wipe him out. Instead he forced himself across the room, kneeling next to Virgil. Remus was there an instant later, wrapping an arm around Dee to keep him steady. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Patton asked softly, voice trembling. 

“Thomas injested something in his drink that for some reason is affecting Virgil and not the rest of us. His airway is blocked, swelling up, and he’s going into shock. Patton, first aid kit.” Logan directed, locking eyes with Patton, who nodded, rushing off and coming back a moment later. 

“Epinephrine, that should allow him to breath. We need to keep him warm, blankets. You have a heated one, correct?” Logan asked, addressing Milo, before focusing, plunging the epipen into Virgil’s thigh. Milo nodded, vanishing for a moment, returning with a pile of blankets, one which was electric. 

“He’s not breathing. Ro, he’s not breathing!” Remus cried, latching onto Virgil’s hand, willing him with all his might to be ok, trying to channel any of his power for imagination into his grasp.

“CPR. Everyone else back away. Remus, go.” Logan said. Remus didn’t stop to question how Logan knew he knew CPR, how he knew he could put the most force behind it, he just sprung into action, pushing with all his force against Virgil’s chest, singing another one bites the dust under his breath. 

“Come! ON! Virgil! Don’t! You! Dare! Just! Use! Your! Stupid! ASS! BITCH! BABY! LUNGS!” He screamed, tears blurring his vision, so much so he didn’t see Roman grab his hands, force him to stop, pull him back, and he struggled against the grip. 

“Ree, you did it. It’s ok. It’s ok, Ree.” He collapsed against his brother with a sob, noticing the shallow rise and fall of Virgil’s chest out of the corner of his eye. 

“But he’s not waking up. What if he doesn’t? It could be poison, he could die, he could decay in front of our eyes, the flesh falling off his bones, turning to dust-“

“No! No, that won’t… that won’t happen.” Patton answered, cutting off Remus’s thoughts, trying to keep his own fear in check. 

Logan felt Virgil’s pulse. It was far too slow, his breaths too shallow and too far apart. He was so pale it was frightening, and he was freezing cold, he felt like ice. The blankets, even the heated one, wasn’t enough.

“Who’s the warmest?” He asked, gaze sweeping the other sides, trying to keep his own voice steady. He was logic. He could not allow himself to panic, not when everyone else was.

“Remus. Remus is.” Milo answered without hesitation. Logan nodded. 

“Right. Remus, he needs your body heat to try and keep his temperature up. Settle on the couch with him, we’ll add the blankets.” Logan directed. Remus nodded, pulling away from Roman hesitantly, not adding any lewd comment, as Logan would normally expect. Instead, he simply took off his shirt, then carefully picked up Virgil, cradling his limp form on the couch, rocking him gently, more to expend his own excess nervous energy than to comfort Virgil.

“Maybe once whatever it is wears off, he’ll be fine!” Patton said, more a question than a statement.

“Thomas is at the hospital now. It was a roofie, basically. They’re saying he’ll be fine, he just needs to rest and let it get out of his system. Joan is taking him home, they’ll be staying with him to make sure he’s ok.” 

“So why… why is he like this?” Patton asked smally. Milo shook his head, tugging at his gloves. He didn’t wear them as often as he used to, but always when stressed they appeared on his hands. 

“I’d guess he absorbed most of the impact of the drug, so the rest of us wouldn’t be affected, either consciously or unconsciously, because of his role as Thomas’s protector. He inhibited its impact, so we’d be able to function. Get Thomas to safety.” Logan tightened his tie, nodding slowly at Milo’s words. 

“That… would make sense. It is also possible that the drug inhibited Virgil’s purpose the most, being self awareness and fight or flight. It was made to specifically repress those instincts. He… he should recover, once it’s all out of his system.” Logan replied, the last sentence lacking his usual confidence. 

“We should have listened. I was stupid, I kept telling him to be quiet and let up, and then he did and this-“ Roman cut off with a frustrated growl, starting to pace the room.

“We all failed in the supporting Virgil category tonight, Roman. Don’t put it all on yourself. I should have been paying more attention. I should have recognized his tells that he wasn’t doing ok.” Milo answered, not having moved from the floor. Patton frowned, placing the back of his hand against Milo’s forehead, relieved at the normal temp, though the side looked slightly feverish. 

“Are you ok?” Patton asked. Milo let out a harsh laugh. 

“Are any of us?” He softened at the slightly hurt look on Patton’s face. “just tired. Just… I’ll be fine.” He replied, quieter, leaning back against the couch, legs tucked under himself. He was surprised as Patton pulled him into a hug, but after a second he leaned into it, head buried against Patton’s shoulder. 

“I should be better than this. After everything, I should have learned to listen to him. Why do I never…” Roman broke off, feeling frustration and anger at himself well up. 

“You were focused on your own priorities. We all were tonight. One slip does not undo all the progress you have made.” Logan replied, gently. Roman shot him a disbelieving look.

“Look around, Roman. Had you not changed and begun being willing to listen to Virgil, Remus would not be here, keeping him warm, doing perfect CPR. We wouldn’t even know Milo’s name, and he certainly wouldn’t be comforting Patton, and I… well. Recent events have made me realize that as much as I would prefer otherwise, I have a plethora of emotions, the strongest of which are care and protectiveness for my family. Mistakes teach us how to do better in the future, but dwelling on them only serves the purpose of making yourself miserable. Especially when it wasn’t at all your fault.” Logan finished softly, internally cringing at what he’d just said, at admitting aloud what he’d known from the start but been unwilling to face, what had been becoming clearer and clearer every time a member of his family was in danger or distress. 

He cared. He desperately, achingly cared, and if he lost any of them, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together for the ones who were left. He would spiral and scream and claw himself to ribbons in an attempt to bring them back. He’d known it since he first met the others, since Virgil ducked out, since he punched Deceit in the face and threatened him if he ever hurt Virgil again, since Despair’s mind trap where he’d only been able to watch as the others were hurt, since Deceit went from an enemy, to a friend. He cared and it hurt and as much as he tried, he couldn’t turn it off.

He realized dimly that he was crying, that Roman was looking at him with a slightly awed, taken aback expression, and for once Logan didn’t protest at being pulled into a hug. He was surprised by the slow clap coming from the floor. He looked over to see Patton squealing so high that only dolphins could hear him, hands on his cheeks and eyes bright. Milo had stopped his clapping, merely smirking in that sly way of his.

“Well done, Logan. It only took a crisis for you to stop lying to yourself.” Before Logan could reply, Patton had launched himself across the room, sweeping him into a giant bear hug. Normally he would pull away, but he couldn’t bring himself to right now. Instead he squeezed Patton just as tightly as Patton was holding him, letting his stress and fear wash out of him with his tears, sandwiched between Patton and Roman. 

“It’ll be ok, Lo. It always is.” Patton whispered. 

“How can you say that? That is a completely illogical statement.” He replied, voice cracking. 

“Because we have each other. And we are always alright in the end. Now come on, you said we need to keep Virgil warm. I can’t think of a better way to do that than a snuggle pile.” Patton replied, pulling him towards the couch. Roman’s grip relented and he followed, unresisting, as he dropped down next to Remus, heaving out a sigh as he leaned against Remus, carefully taking one of Virgil’s ice cold hands in his. Milo settled on the couch next to him, Roman and Patton settling on the other side of Remus, all of them curling up under a giant quilt Patton summoned from somewhere in the mindscape.

Someone turned on a movie, but he was too distant to care, too deep in his own thoughts to listen. Instead he focused on the steady beat of Virgil’s pulse, counting and calculating it’s rhytm. He felt Milo lean against him, and smiled briefly at the contact, meeting the other Side’s gaze. 

“That totally wasn’t a huge breakthrough for you, and I’m for sure not proud of you at all for admitting that out loud.” Logan smiled slightly at the reverse talk, knowing it only slipped out when Milo was nervous or emotional. 

“I am… also glad.” He replied, letting his hand lay across the couch, palm up, smiling smally as he looked away, feeling smooth scales against his skin as Milo held his hand.  
********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Cold. Everything was cold. Had he always been here? He thought so. He didn’t think. Was he only a thought? He couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything. Was he even real? He didn’t think so. A figment of his own imagination, a conjuration of the void, an echo in the darkness of a memory of a dream.   
Then something. Something around him. Something holding him, trapping him, freeing him? It didn’t matter. The cold didn’t end, it seeped into him further, the dark growing darker, the cold, colder.   
A laugh? A voice? Something almost familiar, something that would send a shudder through him if he had a body, if he could still feel. Movement, darkness, cold. Nothing else. Nothing else ever existed. Nothing else was ever there. What little awareness he had faded to nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this series I've been working towards showing that Logan cares much more than he acts like or admits aloud. This is the first time he really admits it to himself, much less out loud to the others. It was a lot of fun to write.


	3. Despair Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what exactly is wrong with Virgil and Despair makes it out of his room once again.

They woke to the room shaking. Milo felt it first, hissing slightly in his sleep, cozily warm and unwilling to move. Then the room shook again, the slightest bit stronger, and he flicked open his eyes. Something was wrong. He was about to say as much when another rattle shook through the house, strong enough Roman leapt to his feet, drawing his sword blearily, Patton squeaked, and Logan adjusted his glasses, sitting up. Milo met Remus’s eyes, who’s own were wide with confusion and muddled fear. Deceit’s tongue flicked out, an instinct he repressed, but sometimes it helped him sense deeper what was going on in the mindscape. This made him freeze, fear washing through him, before he jumped to his feet. 

“What’s happening?” Patton asked, clinging onto the couch, he could feel the worry from the fatherly side against his back, and it braced him further. 

“How could he? It doesn’t… not without…” his stomach dropped and his eyes flicked to Virgil, realization and horror shooting through him. 

“Milo. What is going on?” Logan’s voice, clear and calm, as least outwardly, made Milo take a breath, trying to keep his own thoughts clear. 

“You remember when we pulled him out of the Unconcious?” He asked, hearing murmured agreements and one abashed sorry from Remus, which made his lips twitch in an almost smile. 

“You said his body was there, but his mind was elsewhere.” He nodded sharply at Patton’s words. 

“Well, this is the same. His body’s here, but his… essence is elsewhere. It… fell through the cracks. The last thing he knew, was aware of, was that Thomas was in trouble, Thomas was hurt, poisoned, and he’d failed in his job, it was all his fault.” He held up a hand to forestall Patton’s protests and Roman’s indignation. Logan was just listening attentively, head slightly cocked, and Milo knew that he, at least, was catching on. 

“I, out of everyone, recognize how untrue that line of thinking is. But what’s true isn’t important here, that’s what he believes. And if he believes that he’s failed his purpose, that Thomas could be dying because he didn’t protect him, if he thinks he’s useless and he’s injured and he’s weak, where does that leave him?” Milo asked, feeling Logan’s realization a moment before the strongest quake yet hit, sending plaster dust falling from the ceiling, eliciting a shriek from Patton as the lights flickered then went dark. 

The sound of screeching metal, of snapping chains, of creaking wood.

Milo snarled, feeling his nails grow longer into talons, his canines lengthening into fangs. He didn’t often tap into the more animalistic traits that came with his snakelike form, but now was no time to hold back, his eyes glowing dimly, as the darkness coalesced into an unwelcomingly familiar form, the light flickering back to dim life. 

“Despair.” Was the name that slipped from Logan’s lips, the final piece of understanding slotting into place, and he shook with fear and rage because the others didn’t get it yet, but he did and he was furious. 

“Indeed. Glad to be of service.” The voice was cold as ice and slippery in a way that made Patton shudder, just his presence made the room colder. His form was a strange, oscillating outline of black and brilliant white, black holes for eyes, hair tipped with light. It was deeply, shudderingly unnatural, almost as unnatural as the too slick smile spread across his face, teeth just a bit sharper than they should be. 

“Where. Is. He?” Milo growled, trying to contain the desire to pounce, to pummel, it wouldn’t help. 

“Why, I don’t know what you mean, Dee. Have you lost something?” Despair tapped his chin ponderingly. 

“Don’t lie, Despair, it’s quite unbecoming. Where. Is. Virgil?” He gritted out, voice sliding into that too smooth tone he’d used when playing the villain for so long, honey sweet and poison laced. 

“On the couch, I believe.” He replied, bored, before mock realization lit up his face at Deceit’s hiss. “Oh! You mean this!” With a flourish, he pulled open his trench coat, pulling something small and glowing out of his pocket, setting it atop his palm. 

A jar, like one would use to catch fireflies, and inside was a heart, glowing and spinning slowly. It was a thousand shades of violet and purple, getting lighter nearer the edges, where it morphed into a deep gold. A dark, nebulous blackness surrounded it, keeping it in a firm grip, anytime it pulsed too brightly that color was sucked into the black.

“Give him back!” Roman cried, brandishing his sword. Despair tutted. 

“Careful, careful, or my grip might slip.” As he said the words, the darkness constricted, squeazing the heart. Milo’s head snapped to the couch at Remus’s distressed noise, holding tighter to Virgil as he convulsed, harsh, ragged sounds escaping his throat as he struggled for breath, unable to inhale any air. 

“Sssstop it!” Milo cried, hiss slipping into his voice, too panicked to stop it as he glared down Despair. 

“I’ll kill you. I’ll tear you apart and use your entrails to decorate my bedroom, I’ll tie you down and snap every single bone in your body, then let them heal in those twisted forms and watch you try and struggle before breaking them again and again and again. I’ll tear out your lungs and squeeze them as you suffocate, I’ll shove a thousand needles into your eyes until they pierce your brain and see how much longer you can feel before you bleed out.” Remus ranted, eyes burning, voice low and intense, in a way that meant he wasn’t simply spouting thoughts. He truly meant every threat he uttered. Despair smirked as he released his grip, Virgil gasping in a few deep breaths before going still once more, just as seemingly lifeless as he had been. 

“It is strange. I thought you all were doing so well, getting along like the best of friends. How did the little prodigal son end up scared and alone in my little prison corner of the mind?” Milo hissed, hands clenched into fists. “Still, rather useful. I needed his power to break my bonds. Seeing as he’s who made them” He snarled.

“You made them yourself. Virgil simply turned your own creation against you. Now what do you want?” Milo hissed out, barely noticing his claws digging into his scales. Despair let out a chilling laugh, eyes flashing. 

“What do I want? The same thing I always wanted, the same thing I would have had if YOU hadn’t gone crying wolf. Control. And now that little virgey here is out of the picture, and his power is mine to use, I plan on getting it. But first, I plan on making you suffer.” The dark swirled around the heart again. This time, it seemed to suck the color out of it, leeching it away until it looked almost washed out, and violet and gold flickered at the edges of Despair’s form. 

Milo couldn’t help it anymore. He lunged, fangs bared, feral hiss escaping him as he sought flesh to claw, to bite, to inject his venom into, to tear apart. But Despair simply grinned, easily sidestepping his attack, sending a jolt of electricity at him. He let out a soft cry of pain at the buzzing in his veins. Despair whirled out of the way of Roman, who had charged a moment later, sticking out a foot to trip him as he passed, sending him toppling onto Deceit. 

Logan’s vines wrapped around Despair, trying to entangle him, but with a snap and a flash of violet, a crackle of electricity traveled down their length. Logan dropped to his knees with a pained cry, shaking as the power sent spasms across his body, through his muscles, and the vines wilted away. 

“ENOUGH!” The voice was loud as a thunder clap, and Despair turned slowly with a pleased smile to face Patton. He was standing in front of the couch protectively, in front of Remus, who was cradling Virgil close to his chest, murder in his eyes. 

“Ah yes. Peppy Papa Patton. What are you going to do, I wonder, to defend your kiddos?” He crooned, clapping his hands once. Golden threads appeared around the other’s wrists, ankles, throats, jerking them upright like marionets, the fine string cutting off circulation.

“You’re a failure.” Roman said, voice scathing. Patton’s surprised gaze flicked to him, gasping at the golden tears leaking down his face, the gold obscuring his eyes. 

“You serve no purpose. You are an obsolete artifact of childhood.” Logan, his face twisted with hate. 

“No one would even notice if you were gone. I could replace you, and no one would know. No one would care.” Milo, but his eyes were pleading, he was shaking, out of all of them, he was fighting the hardest, he was almost free, then he felt the words vanish from his throat, silenced. He winced as the thread pulled tighter, feeling warmth trickle down his wrists.

Despair smirked. Patton was shaking, hands curled into fists. He was looking at the ground, shoulders slumped, and he could see the tears falling from his cheeks. Any second he’d give in to the hoplessness, he’d step aside, and then he’d have them all out of the way. Then he’d be the only side that mattered. 

He was surprised, then, when Patton laughed. Surprised at how hard and sharp it sounded, surprised at the flash of fear that he felt before pushing it aside, though uncertainty hovered in his mind now. 

Patton was shaking. But it wasn’t from fear, it was far from that. It was with pure, unadulterated rage. His tears were for his family, for the pain they were in, for the welling of pure emotion that filled him with power. When he lifted his eyes, Despair took a step back, a flash of panic in his eyes. Good. He should be afraid. He should be terrified. 

“You think you know everything, don’t you? You think you have all of us all figured out. You think you know a single. Damn. Thing. About. Me?” Patton laughed again, harsh enough Despair flinched. Patton’s eyes began to blaze with blue fire, the ground around him began to become alive with it, his very being seemed to be lighting up from the inside out. 

“You’ve forgotten three very important things, Despair.” He said, voice strangely, suddenly even, and Despair swallowed dryly. 

“One: I am the center of all emotions, not just the good ones. Happiness, silliness, sure. Love? Of course. But anger, protectiveness, power? Oh yes. That’s me as well. There’s a reason I’m the Dad.” His voice had taken on an echo, almost like Virgil’s, but deeper, stronger. 

“Two: I’m the one who split the mindscape. I’m the one who split creativity. I’m the one who banished you to the dark in the first place. What makes you think I can’t do it again?” He asked, dangerously, taking a step forward. Despair flinched back, stumbling. 

“Three: No one. Not. A. Soul. Hurts. MY. FAMILY!” He screamed the final words, his fire taking off like a tornado, spiraling around Despair in a wave of icy flames and sparkling blue brilliance, Patton shining like the sun, light rippling across his form as he pushed more and more power into the flames.

Despair screamed as the light tore him apart, as invisible wind whipped the flames higher, encapsulating him as it burned away his darkness, as it scorched away his essence, as it licked up his jacket and covered his face, until the final wisps of black were annihilated by the agonizingly pure light and the fury of Patton’s scream.

Then it was over. It was suddenly silent. Suddenly dim compared to the inferno of moments before.

Patton lunged forwards as the flames dissipated, catching the jar before it fell and shattered, shaking as he cradled it to his chest. The heart inside was pale lilac and almost white gold, no doubt sapped and hurt from Despair’s use, but it seemed otherwise intact. The jar was warm, but his fire hadn’t damaged it, he’d kept enough control to ensure that. 

“It’s ok hon. It’s ok virg, I got you, I got you now, you’re gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok. Your dad’s here, it’s ok.” He didn’t know if Virgil could hear him, but as he spoke, almost in slow motion, as if groggy, the heart floated closer, bumping against the side of the jar that was hugged against Patton’s chest. He let out a half laugh, half sob, holding it closer.

He looked up to see the others regaining their senses. Roman looked purely offended at the wounds on his wrists. Logan was shaking slightly, straightening his glasses as he looked appraisingly at Patton. Remus was gaping at him, wide eyed and almost afraid. Milo was curled so tight his forehead was touching the floor, and even from a distance, Patton could hear the unsteady gasps his breath was coming in. 

“Roman. Can you take him? You and Logan?” Roman nodded, face softening as he saw the jar Patton was cradling, taking it carefully in his own hands, holding it up to his face. 

“Hey there dark and stormy. Don’t you worry. We’ll have you back in your proper place in a jiffy.” Roman near whispered, unsure if he’d even get a response out of him, his thought answered as the heart pulsed almost indignantly, making a surprised smile creep onto Roman’s face. 

“Roman is correct. You are… you’re safe, Virgil. You’re home. And we will let nothing happen to you now that you are back in our care.” The heart pulsed once, weakly, before listing to the side, resting on the bottom of the container. Logan’s eyes widened, then he swept into professor mode, directing Roman to the couch. 

“Mi?” Patton said his name softly, carefully keeping enough distance that he wouldn’t feel crowded, while being close enough he could reach out if he wanted. Milo curled tighter into himself, flinching at Patton’s voice. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, almost whimpered, and Patton stared back, confused. 

“What for kiddo? None of this was your fault.” Milo shook his head, finally looking up, eyes haunted. 

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know what it felt like, if I did I wouldn’t have used it, I wouldn’t… I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe, and I was trying, I was screaming, but I couldn’t… and what I said, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want to say it but I couldn’t stop them, and I couldn’t say anything, all my words, were just, stolen, all those times I didn’t think… I’m sorry, sorry, sorry…” Patton’s heart melted as he realized what exactly Milo was apologizing for, and he was across the space in an instant, holding the snake side. 

“Shh, kiddo, it’s ok, it’s ok.” Milo fervently shook his head, but no words could escape past his shaking gasps. 

“No, it is. It is. I know, I know you didn’t mean what you said, you didn’t want to say it, I know, and I don’t blame you for it, I don’t hold it against you. And before? I don’t blame you for any of those times either. You have your powers for a reason, and you never use them maliciously, not like Despair did. You used them to have a voice when I was too stubborn to listen any other way, you used them to try and make Thomas see the world more objectively, you used them to try and protect Thomas, protect us, and I recognize that now, I see that, where I was too set in my ways to see it before. You made mistakes. You went too far. But so did I. You only silence us now when Thomas needs a moment to think, when one of us is too upset, when we’re all too busy fighting or arguing to realize what it’s doing to all of us. You use it constructively, how it should be used, to protect and to help, not like Despair did.

And I know what I said to Despair. But I would never, never use my own power like that on you. I would never send you back, I would never lock you up again, I would never even think it. Because when I said no one hurts my family, that includes you, dear, it includes you and Remus and Logan and Virgil and Roman and I will never hurt you like that again.” Patton murmured, feeling Milo slowly start to calm, his breath coming more evenly as Patton rubbed his back, his sobs hiccupping into silence. 

“You… you’re not… you aren’t lying.” He whispered, a bit of awe in his voice, a bit of surprised disbelief, then he was clinging to Patton, crying again, but tears of relief this time, of built up stress, of the last dregs of fear fading away as Patton held him and murmured soothingly in his ear, each of his comforting words ringing true, true, true, only pulling away once Patton insisted they tend to the bleeding cuts around his wrists and neck where the strings had bit too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing BAMF Patton. I always imagine there's a switch you flip where he goes into absolute rage mode. You can do or say anything you want to him, and he'll take it, but act against his family, and you will not even have the chance to live to regret it.


	4. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sides repair Despair's damage. A lot of fluff ensues.

Dark. 

Cold.

Abyss. 

Empty. 

Movement. Movement? 

Static. Everything here was static. Nothing moved. Nothing changed. Nothing had ever been. Ever was. 

But there was… something. 

Almost… a voice. 

“Your dad’s here.” He jerked, moving towards it, towards the noise, the words that coalesced out of the nothing, and the warmth they carried with them. Then it was gone, and he was afraid.

“Hey there dark and stormy. Don’t you worry. We’ll have you back in your proper place in a jiffy.” A new voice, one he liked, but found vaguely infuriating. Distantly he heard a laugh, full of light and hope.

“Roman is correct. You are… you’re safe, Virgil. You’re home. And we will let nothing happen to you now that you are back in our care.” 

Logan. That was the name of this voice, and it stirred something in him, Roman was the previous voice, the infuriating/care/light. 

Logan was the comfort/truth/clarity.

Patton was the warmth/soft/love.

What about the other two? Were there other two? Yes, there were. 

Snake/cold/strength/heat

Dark/weird/impulse/not-scary-scary

Where were they? He felt his energy wane, felt a sense of vertigo. 

Feel. He could feel. He could feel the cold again, that folded into his bones, ate into his marrow, that numbed his fingers and toes, that froze his heart in his chest and burned at his throat. 

Body. He had a body. And it hurt, god it hurt, as feeling returned to more of his body, as the cold started to retreat, leaving pins and needles in its wake, burning into him, into every piece of him, lancing through every pore of his skin, and he pressed himself closer to the warmth he could feel emenating from one side of him, feeling hot tears escaping from the corners of his eyes, burning their way down his face.

“gil? C… ear...?” The words were half formed, half filtered through the fog of his mind. Who… he shook, a wave of painful tingles spiking down his back, a whimper escaping his lips. It was like his entire body had fallen asleep and was now waking up, and it hurt, hurt, hurt. 

“Stormcloud?” He squeezed his eyes tighter, unable to do more than nod weakly. Yes, yes he could hear again, he could hear, and he could feel the fire that traced itself across his skin, that curled just under the surface, tracing his veins.

“Ree-“ He choked out, gasping at the sharp stab of air against his lungs, at the rawness of his throat, feeling like it had been torn to shreds, the gasp making him cough, and he curled tighter against the warmth behind him, which he now recognized as Remus, burying his head against his shoulder, not even caring why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was cold, and everything hurt, and he couldn’t talk and he was afraid and he was crying but it just tore at his throat harder, and he tasted copper and it burned like the rest of him.

“Stormy, Stormy, Stormy, my Stormcloud.” Remus murmured, unusually soft, cradling him tightly, a hand on his head, running through his hair, and hand against his back, rubbing it softly, and he wished he had Dee’s extra arms to hold him tighter.

“Hurts.” Virgil croaked, voice barely a whisper, barely there, raw and broken. He held him tighter. 

“I know, Stormcloud, I know. But you need to warm up, you’re frozen stiff, it’s gonna hurt, love, I’m sorry.” He murmured back, rubbing warmth into Virgil’s arms, massaging his hands, feeling his hot tears on his shoulder. 

“Thomas… Thomas, he-“ 

“Is perfectly fine, thanks to your intervention.” Logan interrupted Virgil’s panicked rasp, “and I suggest you refrain from speaking for now, and give your throat time to heal.” Virgil shook his head, managing to crack open his eyes a sliver, though even that was blindingly bright after the endless darkness. 

“Was too late.” 

“Falsehood.” Logan replied. “Thanks to you, we had enough warning that Milo could brace Thomas against the effects, giving Patton enough time to locate Joan, whom got Thomas to safety.” Virgil hesitated, unable to accept that it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been good enough. 

“Virgil. I’m sorry. I didn’t think, I was so caught up in the party, I never meant for you to feel unable to speak up.” Roman apologized, Virgil hadn’t even realized he was sitting on Remus’s other side. Virgil nodded, the lump in his throat growing, but he pushed it back, knowing crying would only hurt more. He could feel his awareness fading, and he struggled against it, afraid of being pulled back into that void, into the cold, into the nothing. But he was tired, and hot/cold and it hurt to be awake. 

“It’s ok, kiddo. Get some sleep. We’ll be right here when you wake up.” Patton’s voice filtered through his panic, and he nodded, tucking his head down against Remus’s chest. He held out his hand, smiling as he heard Patton’s fond laugh, felt him gently squeeze his hand, letting him know he was there, he’d always be there. He let out a deep sigh.

“M’kay. Thanks …dad.” Then he was asleep, face crinkled in discomfort. Patton let out a long breath, watching Virgil drift off, letting his smile fade as his shoulders slumped and he slid back against the couch, rubbing Virgil’s hand. 

“Pat… are you alright?” Logan asked, sliding off the couch to sit on the ground beside Patton, noticing his hair was sticky with sweat, he was trembling slightly as well. Milo had settled on the other side of him, still a bit unsteady. Patton let out another long breath. 

“I didn’t know for sure I could do that on purpose. That I… that I could do it at all. Splitting everything, it was an accident before, it was easier because nothing was set in its way yet. I didn’t mean to… to… dissolve him, like that. I don’t like that I can do that. I don’t want to. But I just… he was hurting you all and I got so, so, furious. I couldn’t… control it. And now I’m just…” He gestured helplessly, unsure how to explain what he was feeling now, unable even to cry, though he desperately wanted to. 

“Wrung out. You pulled every drop of emotion you had in you to do what you did. Almost hollow. Almost empty. But mostly tired. And a bit afraid.” Milo finished for him, a small smile slipping across his face as he dropped his head back against the couch cushions, looking up at the ceiling from his spot sitting on the floor. 

“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly it. I just need to recharge. Just need… all of you.” Patton said softly, reaching out, smiling as Milo took his hand without looking away from the ceiling, holding it tightly as if it were his only tether. 

He was tired too. Keeping the adrenaline up, that had been hard enough. Keeping enough attention on Thomas to make sure he was alright, checking in throughout the night, trying to do both his and Virgil’s jobs, was too much on its own. Add everything else… he found himself absently rubbing his wrist with one of his extra arms, a swell of anger and pain rushing through him.

He felt hands on his shoulders, rubbing them firmly, but gently, and he let out an appreciative hum, just now realizing his eyes had slipped closed. He felt tension leaking out of his shoulders, leaning back into the touch as it moved from his shoulders to his neck. 

“you don’t have to, Roman.” He murmured, the hands stilling for a moment. He could practically see Roman’s one eyebrow quirked, the small, puzzled smile on his face. 

“Please, you look like you could use it. You, Virg, Patton, this all hit the three of you the hardest. You three get some rest. We’ll take care of everything in the meantime.” He replied, and Milo found it impossible to disagree as Roman hit a sweet spot, sending pleasing tingles down his spine. He was still unused to the affectionate contact that came so easy to the light sides, to all their open warmth and love and care. But he found he rather liked it.

“Remus, no breaking anything or anyone, for the day at least.” He heard Remus’s quiet chuckle. 

“I’m not sure I could move if I wanted to, Dee. Virgil here is clinging to me like a koala clinging to the only tree left in the forest that isn’t on fire.” Patton didn’t even have the heart to make a noise of protest against the analogy. 

“Roman, no, I can’t just leave you guys to do all the work!” 

“Patton, you have already done more than your fair share for the day. Roman’s statement is correct. You all need rest in order for Thomas to function properly. He won’t be up and able to accomplish much until tomorrow, anyway, given the drug still exiting his system. We are entirely capable of handling things until then.” Logan softened on the final sentence, and Patton knew he wouldn’t be getting out of a day of rest. He didn’t really mind. 

“Ok. You’re right, Lo. Maybe a nap would be nice.” He sighed, snuggling up against Milo, who peeked open an eye in slight surprise as the side rested his head against his shoulder. 

“love you, dee.” He murmured, making Milo’s breath catch. He’d heard that a thousand times before the split, and he felt tears come to his eyes, as he rested his head atop Patton’s. 

“Love you too, Patty cake.” He pressed a kiss to Patton’s soft curls, using the nickname he hadn’t in oh so long, in almost twenty years, soaking in the small laughter that slipped from Patton, letting Patton’s warmth seep into his scales, melting into Roman’s magical massage touch, letting the combination of the two soothe him into half awareness, then eventually, to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the last one, of this story, anyway. I have some smaller fluffy ideas that I'm working on, and a vague sense of where to go next (there is still Wrath and Envy locked up, after all :)   
> But feel free to hit me up with ideas or prompts if you want! I'm always looking for inspiration.   
> And if you've made it this far, holy cow, that is a looooot of reading, so thank you for dedicating your time to my literary shenanigans.


	5. An Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fluffy resolution to the angsty chaos.

Soft voices reached through the fog, into his sleep. They were important ones. They didn’t sound worried. They were just talking. That was good. He squeezed his eyes tighter closed before scrunching his face, waking up and opening his eyes with a soft sigh. His vision was hazy, but a few blinks and he realized he was snuggled up against Remus’s chest. He blinked again, looking up and meeting Remus’s neon green eyes. He seemed frozen, almost like he was scared of startling Virgil. 

“Ree? Wha… ‘s everything ok?” He asked, groggy. His voice came out in a raspy whisper, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had before, though every word was painful, it wasn’t as raw. His body ached as well, but not the stabbing pins and needles of before. He was warm. It was nice being warm. 

“Everything’s just fine, Stormcloud. We just got Patton and Dee settled down in a spare room, Patton didn’t want him to be alone, but they need the sleep. And you wouldn’t stop clinging to me, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I know how little sleep you get to start with.” Virgil nodded, looking towards the soft voices. Remus followed his gaze. 

“Logan and my bro are in the kitchen. You wanna try getting up, and we can go see ‘em?” Virgil nodded again, not wanting to put too much stress on his throat. 

Slowly, he shifted off of Remus, head spinning just a bit as he stood, at the change of elevation. Remus carefully grabbed his elbow, keeping virgil steady as he gained his balance. The side shot him a grateful look and a rueful half smile. 

“No prob, virgey. I’m not about to let you fall over and crack open your head now, wouldn’t that be ironic?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, confusion on his face. Remus pretended not to see, pulling him along. 

“Look who’s up and about!” He trilled, all eyes landing on him as they entered, Virgil’s widening as he realized it hadn’t just been Logan and Roman at all. Thomas was there too. Before he could say a single word, or panic and sink out, Thomas had crossed the room to him, and pulled him into hug. 

“sorry. ‘m sorry, sorry, sorry-“ Virgil whispered, his voice incapable of doing anything louder at the moment. 

“Virg, no, you did everything right, you were amazing. I… thank you. I don’t know what would’ve happened without you.” Virgil shook his head. 

“I didn’t do anything. It was all Mi and Patton. They got you to Joan. If I’d been paying more attention you wouldn’t even have touched your drink. I wasn’t… I wasn’t doing my job.” Virgil pulled away, biting his lip, but Thomas caught his hands. 

“You did. You did your job. You kept me safe. You made sure nothing bad happened to me when everything went wrong. You did good, Virg. You did.” Virgil was lightly trembling, and his vision was blurring with tears, which he pushed away. “I’m glad your ok.” Thomas said softly, and Virgil hugged him again, a grateful breath escaping him that everyone was alright, Thomas was alright, nothing worse had happened, everything was alright. 

“How are you feeling, Dark and Stormy?” Roman asked, Virgil pulling away and collapsing into a chair at the table. He shrugged. 

“Could be worse. What,” he flinched at a sharp ache from his throat, shooting Logan a thankful glance as he set a cup of tea in front of him. He took a sip, savoring the warmth, before continuing. “what happened? I mean, obviously you got home safely, but why’s everyone being so weird?” 

He’d picked up on Remus’s strange concern, the glances Princey was shooting him every few seconds, relief written in his eyes, Logan repeatedly looking him up and down, as if to ensure he was actually there, up and functioning. There was a beat of silence, three sets of eyes turning to Thomas, who cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Right, well, I’ll be going, then, I just wanted to make sure everyone was ok. Don’t want Joan to worry. I just… thank you, Virg.” Virgil nodded, watching apprehensively as Thomas sank out, biting his lip. He turned to the others, eyebrow raised. 

“So?”

“It may be easier to start with this. What do you remember, Virgil?” Logan asked, voice oddly even as he sat down next to him at the table. Virgil hummed, squinting up at the ceiling. 

“It’s all… muddled. I remember Thomas, taking a drink. I panicked. I didn’t feel right. I told… I told Dee to get to Joan. Then…” he shivered a bit, holding the mug of tea tighter, taking another unsteady sip. “dark… and… and cold. And there was nothing, but it was so… loud, almost. Then…” he shook his head, looking down into the mug. “I dunno. That’s… that’s all I’ve got. Why? What… what happened?” Virgil looked up suddenly, eyes flicking between the three of them, trying to get a read on the situation. 

“Everyone is ok-“ Logan started.

“Your soul ended up in Despair’s room and he used your power to break out of the chains you’d trapped him in and then he tried to suck you dry to use all your power to get back at us, well, you guys, for defeating him in the first place!” Virgil’s chair clattered to the floor behind him. He wasn’t aware he’d shot to his feet, but he could feel the panic flaring through him, ears ringing. 

“What did he do?” He whispered, eyes locking onto Logan, because Logan was steady, Logan would answer. 

“Virgil-“   
“What did he do?” He asked again, more force behind it, a whisper of an echo to it. Logan sighed and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the deep purple bruising around his wrists, a pattern Virgil was familiar with. He knew matching bruises were on his neck, ankles, waist. He was gripping the table, trying to keep his breath even, trying not to let his panic swallow him. 

“Remus! You could have put it a little more gently.” Roman protested, though Virgil barely heard him over the pounding in his ears. 

“I thought it was like a band aid! If we said it all slow it would only make him freak out more!” 

“Virgil.” He whipped around at that voice, Mi’s voice, and found him leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, tired and disheveled, but otherwise alright. “You need to breathe. I could feel your anxiety in my sleep.” Virgil realized he’d been holding his breath, and managed to let it out, and take in another breath. 

“Despair, where-“ 

“Patton handled him.” Virgil let out a shaky laugh of disbelief.

“Patton?! Where-is he-are you-“ Milo was across the room, holding his shoulders.

“breathe. He is fine. It took a lot out of him. he hasn’t used power like that in a long time. Despair didn’t even get the chance to touch him.” 

“But he touched you.” Virgil replied, noticing the bandages wrapped around his wrists, peeking out from his collar. 

“Barely more than anyone else. I have no doubt he would have taken his time with me later, had Patton not destroyed him. I am all right. So is Patton. So is everyone. Breathe.” Virgil let out another huge breath, sinking back into the chair that Logan had quietly righted for him, running his hands through his hair. 

He remembered. He remembered now. Not what they were saying had happened, cause he hadn’t really been there, been aware. But he remembered that falling feeling, that cold, empty hopelessness, the emptiness that filled him as more and more of himself drifted away, was pulled away by Despair, using him as he’d always intended, as a battery. 

“kiddo?” Patton. Patton was there. Without really thinking he launched himself into Patton’s arms. The other side staggered, barely keeping them steady enough to gently lower them both to the ground. 

“I heard you. I was so cold and I heard you and it made me warm and woke me up and I heard you or I would’ve just kept falling forever.” Virgil gasped out, barely aware of the words pouring out of his mouth, only of Patton’s soft concern and soothing noises. 

“You’re really ok? He didn’t-“ 

“I’m fine, kiddo. I am. I promise.” Virgil glanced over at Milo, who rolled his eyes but nodded, mouthing “truth” at him from over Patton’s shoulder. “I was so worried about you, Virg. I didn’t… I was so scared for you.” Patton’s voice shook, and now he was hugging Virgil tight, sniffling into his shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Pat. I’m ok.” Virgil murmured, hearing Milo’s disapproving hiss over his shoulder. “I’ll be ok. Is that better?” He yelled back over his shoulder, making Milo roll his eyes, and Roman laugh, and he buried his face deeper against Patton’s cardigan, unwilling to let go, another wave of tiredness washing over him. 

“I know. You’re so strong, Virgil, you’re so strong and brave and good and I love you so, so much, kiddo.” 

“Me?? You took down Despair, Patton. That’s… I mean, wow.” 

“No one messes with my kiddos. No one.” Patton said through his tears, sounding just a little fierce, as his arms squeezed tighter around Virgil. “Now, let’s get some food in you, then you should get some more rest.” Patton pulled back, and Virgil let out a long breath, looking up at Milo, who had settled at the table, along with the others, who were quietly prepping breakfast, working together in the kitchen, laughing and smiling and relieved. His family. All of them. Safe.

“Ok. Sounds good, Pat.” He smiled as Patton removed his cat hoodie from around his shoulders, holding it out to him. 

“You’re still shivering.” Patton said, almost shyly. Virgil pulled on Patton’s hoodie over his own purple patched one, sighing as the last of the chill started to fade away. 

“It’s perfect, pat. Thanks.” His smile widened as Patton helped him to his feet, sitting him down at the table, soaking in the noise and laughter and relief. They were safe. Thomas was safe. Everything was going to be ok.

And after breakfast, he was going to drag Milo into the living room to snuggle, because if he was cold and exhausted, so was the snake side. Patton would need no coercion to join, of course, and despite Mi’s protests, he knew he loved it. 

And Virgil loved them. With all his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Expect some shorter one off's soon, and main plot eventually lol.   
> And thanks for reading.   
> I know I said it last chapter, but it's true, I can't believe people have actually read all the way up to this point, that's like reading at least a hundred page book. I love writing and I love these characters, and I'm so grateful people read and enjoy what I'm doing with them.   
> So thanks.   
> You're awesome!


End file.
